


Finding a New Balance

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bingo, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: Darcy gets a new job - helping S.T.R.I.K.E. reintegrate back into "normal" S.H.I.E.L.D. society after having played the triple agent route.  She's not sure if she's going to thank Clint or kill him for this one.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Darcy Lewis, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis
Comments: 258
Kudos: 455
Collections: Clint Barton Bingo, Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, Marvel Fluff Bingo





	1. You Did What?

**Author's Note:**

> So, several of my bingo squares suggested a related story line . . . thus a multi-chapter fic. And my first ever foray into Brock/Darcy! And this is very much an alternate universe, clearly.
> 
> Chapter 1 squares:
> 
> Marvel Fluff Bingo - I2 - Babysitter AU  
> Ladies of Marvel Bingo - O3 - "You did what?"  
> Clint Barton Bingo - O4 - Bromance

“You did what?”

Darcy Lewis stood in the doorway to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s main cafeteria, her hands on her hips as she stared at the man who counted as one of her best friends. She adored Clint Barton, really she did – though sometimes she wondered why. “Are you seriously telling me that you volunteered me as babysitter for S.T.R.I.K.E. Team Alpha?”

“Look, Darce, I’m sorry, but . . . this kind of shit doesn’t throw you, you know?” Clint scratched the back of his head. “These guys did some serious undercover work. Being a triple agent . . . it’s a major deal – and they’re all kinda touchy.”

“Touchy how, Birdbrain,” she demanded. “Touchy as in – shoot everything that moves? Or touchy as in – give me grief and I’m going to punch you instead of yell? Or-?”

“Hyper-vigilant,” he interrupted. “They can’t settle down unless they’re watching each other’s back. All of them are dealing with insomnia, eating troubles, and major trust issues.”

“And that sounds like a safe place to put the civilian?”

“I know, I know.” Clint held up his hands. “But being a civilian is part of why you’ll work. You’re not a threat to them.” Her eyes narrowed and he took a step back. “Not that you’re not dangerous!” he hurried to assure her. “It’s just . . . they don’t have to be on guard around you.” He nodded towards the far side of the room. “Look at them. See the huge space?”

“Like people have pulled the other tables away from them, yeah, I see it.”

“Because people have.” Something dark moved through his gaze. “Just like they did to me after Loki.”

“That shit wasn’t your fault!” Her temper flared like it always did at any mention of that whole situation. “You didn’t deserve-!”

“Whoa!” Clint stepped closer, his hand reaching up to ruffle her hair. He grinned as she batted at his hand. “Thanks for the support, but I’m just pointing out – people are doing the same thing to them. It’s all these subtle sidelong looks, you know? How do we know they’re _really_ the good guys?” Rolling his shoulders, he grimaced as he met her unhappy expression. “I know you’ll give them a chance.”

“Okay . . .”

“But . . . you gotta go slow.”

“No kidding.” Darcy drew in a deep breath. “So we’ve got a team of touchy, well-trained black ops soldiers who need someone to treat them as human beings, not bombs about to go off.” She pursed her lips. “Oh, and they’ve got the instinct of feral cats right now, so said person needs to make sure not to pet against the grain or make any sudden movements so she doesn’t get clawed to hell and back.”

He opened and closed his mouth a time of two before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess?”

“It’s a damn good thing I like you, Barton,” she huffed. “ **And** that I don’t want to piss Laura off any time soon . . . or I’d call in the IOU Tasha owes me.”

“Tasha owes you an IOU?”

“Yes.” She gave him a firm nod and hard glare. “And if I didn’t like your wife so much, I’d call it in for her to kick your ass.”

“I could give you an IOU?”

“If I need an ass kicked, I’ll call Tasha,” she chuckled. “You’re going to owe me coffee, boyo. **All** the coffee.” Sobering, she crossed her arms over her chest and considered the distant table. “And Coulson agreed to this?”

“Agreed to it,” Clint nodded. “Jumped on it and plans to make it official at tomorrow morning’s briefing.”

“Good to know.” 

Darcy ran through the team in her mind, trying to remember everything she’d heard or read as Coulson’s assistant. A twelve-man team led by their commander, Brock Rumlow, they tended to keep to themselves. It made sense while they pretended to be HYDRA – fewer social interactions meant fewer chances to drop clues to their real loyalties. Now they needed to learn to reintegrate into regular society . . . if S.H.I.E.L.D. could be considered ‘regular’ in any context. Probably why Clint came to her – people liked her and she could socialize with anyone from Fury and Hill on down to the lowliest receptionist.

Add in her ability to manage scientists and heroes, and he must have figured her ability to roll with the weird would pay off when dealing with these edgy men. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“As if they were that cheap?” Darcy shot back, giving Clint a sardonic glare. “I’m telling you,” she insisted, poking a finger into his chest. “All the coffee.”

“Every day,” he agreed, both hands coming up in surrender once again. “I’ll make sure you’ve got the best stuff ready and waiting, on tap. You just pick your place and I’ll set up the account so you can get it whether I’m in town or not.”

“See?” She gave him a bright, mischievous smile. “I don’t even have to call in favors – Laura will kick your ass for feeding my caffeine addiction.”

“You’re cruel, Darce.”

“You adore me anyway.”

“Seriously though,” he chuckled. “I put your name in because I know you’ll give them a real chance, not just go through the motions. They’re good guys . . . sometimes a pain in the ass and a couple of them have egos or chips on their shoulders, but still good guys.”

“I deal with Tony Stark,” she reminded him. “I can handle egos.”

“Just . . . don’t let them run you off, okay? They’ll try to push you away . . .”

“If Natasha Romanoff couldn’t scare me into running away, I really don’t think a group of men have a chance, do you?”

“Point.”

Darcy shook her head and sighed. “One of these days I’m going to figure out who put the babysitter curse on me and make them take it off. Mad scientists, absent-minded professors, injury prone heroes, Hulk, Coulson . . . now S.T.R.I.K.E.?” She rolled her eyes. “How is this even my life?”


	2. Changes in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy drops in for lunch and then drops a bit of a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, officially - as far as I can find - the only names for STRIKE are Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins. Cool with me - I made up my own names. I have never written Rumlow, Rollins, or any of the guys, so this is a new baby for me and I hope you enjoy as it spins out. 
> 
> Also, I'm aiming at making these around 1000 words per chapter.
> 
> Bingo fills:
> 
> Marvel Fluff Bingo - G2 - Touch starvation  
> Ladies of Marvel Bingo - N4 - Make me - this one's a bit of a stretch, but it worked for me, so . . . _*shrugs*_

Darcy strode into the cafeteria, her lunch tote slung over her shoulder and her attention centered on the isolated table taken up by S.T.R.I.K.E. team Alpha. Now that she’d had it pointed out to her, she could see the suspicious looks and how people tended to slide away from the men. It reminded her of the looks the Avengers got any time they came to headquarters: caution, curiosity, fear . . . even wonder – though of the wrong type. Sure, most of the agents treated them with respect and a bit of awe, but too many watched with calculation. They watched the team as if trying to figure out how to take out each hero should they go off the deep end.

That kind of thing pissed her off and made her want to thumb her nose at the whole damn place.

She could feel the attention of the entire room on her as she headed for the one empty seat at S.T.R.I.K.E.’s table. “Hey!” she chirped, pulling out the chair and plopping herself down in it. 

Every man stared at her in surprise and suspicion as she smiled at them. 

Ignoring that, she unzipped her tote and wrinkled her nose at their trays, all of them holding pretty much the same selections of generic cafeteria food. Leaning towards one of them – Guy Fortier, their communications specialist – she eyed the main dish. “So, what exactly do you call that?

The men continued to stare at her as she started pulling her own lunch out of her bag. Darcy raised her eyebrows when no one spoke. Her own gaze did a quick sweep of the table before settling on the man next to her - Jack Rollins, the team’s second-in-command. “The cat got all of your tongues?” she chuckled. Then she tilted her head in consideration. “Or, this being headquarters, maybe I should ask about a spider instead of a cat?”

“Lewis,” Brock Rumlow, the team’s commander, interrupted. “What do you want?”

Turning her attention to him, she gave him a wry little smile. “Lunch, dude,” she replied as she gestured to the food in front of her. “It’s been awhile since breakfast and I’ve got a crazy number of hours until dinner.” Picking up the pickle spear, she used it to point at him. “Coulson encourages me not to snack at my desk. Ergo – lunch.”

“No,” he sighed. “What do you want . . . here?”

“Congratulations!” she grinned, drawing a blink from him. Considering how often he kept his expression schooled to either stoic or smirk, she’d count it as a win. “You’re about to be getting assigned to Avengers Tower for the foreseeable future.” They gaped at her and she took a bite of her sandwich. “Coulson’s going to get you all the details after lunch, but suffice it to say, you’ll be moving onto a floor at the tower.” When Jack shifted in his seat, she reached over to pat his arm. He went still, not quite rejecting her touch, but before she could pull away, she felt a slight push back. Nothing showed in his face and the movement wasn’t obvious, but she could sense him leaning into the contact.

_Big damn check in the ‘touch starved’ column._ She fought hard to keep the snarl out of her face. _Note to self – make sure to touch often._

As a big believer in the power of physical touch, on **every** level, Darcy had wondered about the team . . . and now she knew. God only knew what level of skin hunger they all possessed. So she would have to deal with that little issue as well.

“The Tower?”

She turned a smile on the speaker, the youngest of the team – Alexei Popov. “Yep!” Popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word drew an unhappy look from Rumlow, but she ignored that to grin at his man. “Your team will have almost an entire floor all to itself, Alex.”

“Popov,” he corrected.

“Pfft.” Darcy waved that off. “You lot can be all official and agent-y if you want, but I like people’s first names.” Her eyes sparkled. “Besides, you look like an Alex.”

Before he could speak, Rollins leaned towards her, his arm slipping across the table to press against her hand. If she hadn’t been watching for it, she’d have thought it an accident. “ **Almost** an entire floor?”

“All but one apartment,” she nodded, patting his arm once again. This time she gave it a bit of a squeeze and hid a smile when she saw some of the tension in his shoulders relax.

“Why all but one?” Rumlow demanded.

“Because I’ll be your hostess during your stay at the Tower.” He scowled at her and she just gave him a sunny smile. When her phone alarm beeped at her, she heaved a sigh. “Damn it. I’ve got to get the paperwork to Coulson before the meeting. Guess it’ll be lunch on the run.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“About what?” She knew what he meant, but Darcy also knew how to play the wide-eyed innocent look to best effect. As she focused her eyes on him, she could see the rest of his team shifting in their seats as if debating whether to answer . . . or to head him off from doing just that.

“About staying on the same floor!” Something unhappy and akin to anxiety seemed to lurk in the depths of his dark gaze. “It’s not . . . we don’t want you there.”

She’d caught the sentence he’d started to say – “It’s not safe.” – thanks to a couple of years of translating a multitude of geniuses, heroes, and spies. Rumlow used the same tone Clint had for months after Loki and the Chitauri invasion. True dislike would be hard to work around, but this kind of anxiety? This she could, and would, handle. “That decision’s really above our pay grade,” she shrugged as she rose and made her way to his side.

“But . . .”

“Hey - if wishes were rainbows, Asgard wouldn’t need the Bifrost.” Darcy leaned against the table beside him, reaching out to pat his shoulder and feeling his instinctive lean into the touch. “You’ll get used to me,” she promised. “Everybody does.” Quiet chatter filled the room as people around them covertly watched her. So gave the table another cheery smile, tapped Rumlow on the nose, and then strolled out the door, tossing her final words over her shoulder.

“See you boys at home!”


	3. A Little Tipsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has to seek Darcy out and find her in the lab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bingo fills:
> 
> Marvel fluff - N5 - Soft under the hard exterior  
> Ladies of Marvel - N1 - Are you drunk?
> 
> Also, totally stole the idea of the dogs from Liebekatze . . . thanks!!

Darcy sat in her chair, twisting from side-to-side as she watched her best friend scribble on one of the glass walls of the lab. Thanks to Jane decreeing a margarita afternoon – no doubt due to the off-again status of her relationship with Thor – Darcy now felt tipsy and drowsy. She’d enjoy going down to the floor she shared with the team so she could curl up with the guys to watch a movie. Sure, she might pass out in the first fifteen minutes, but she could trust the boys to make sure she got put into a bed with water and aspirin for the next morning. 

Sounded like a plan to her.

In the weeks since the team moved in, she’d worked her ass off to make the place comfortable and homey. Although she set it up before they came, it had been kind of generic, temporary. She needed to get to know the guys before she could do something to make it more fitting for them. As it turned out, her planning – based on what she’d learned from the Avengers – worked out pretty well. Open floor plans, including open sightlines, lack of clutter, and comfortable furniture along with lots of natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows seemed to make a lot of difference. She’d watched as the team relaxed almost the moment they stepped into the sunlit common area. 

The live plants seemed like an odd touch, but Bucky assured her it helped – and Bruce gave her an absent-minded speech on how they removed toxins from the air. 

Keeping the colors light, soft, and simple made the most sense to her though she’d added some vibrant touches here and there with input from Natasha and Pepper. Pepper’s taste and familiarity with the crazy that was Tony helped immensely while Natasha got sneaky on her behalf to find out favorite colors for as many of the team as she could. That allowed her to personalize their rooms somewhat, though she left a lot of that open for them to create their own space. All in all, Darcy thought she did well in making a home that would allow them to relax.

Then she got a suggestion from Clint . . . and thus came the dogs.

Stark Tower included several floors of retail and other outside work – including the offices for a foundation that worked to help working dogs retire and get adopted to loving homes after they finished their time of service. Having heard about how animals could help people deal with trauma and stress, Darcy decided to help both groups by having some of the dogs come and stay with the team. As dogs were adopted out, they would bring in new ones, but she had a feeling some of them would end up getting adopted by her boys.

God, she hoped so – watching the men work and play with the dogs would have melted a harder heart than hers.

“There you are.”

Spinning towards the door at the voice, Darcy had to grab hold of the desk to control her chair. “Hey! Chen!” She gave him a bright grin. “Welcome to the lab!”

“Are you drunk?” Chen frowned at her, concern flickering in his dark brown eyes.

“No…” She drew out the word, shaking her head. “Jane is drunk; **I** am tipsy.” He cocked an eyebrow at her as he fished out his phone and she heaved out a sigh. “Okay, I am **very** tipsy.”

“Mmm hmm.” Putting the phone to his ear, he waited a moment. “Found her.” Pause. “She’s in the lab . . .” He looked at her as he listened to whatever his conversation partner said and his lips quirked in near amusement. “She’s a little drunk.”

“Hey! Very tipsy!” she corrected, pitching her voice to try and be heard by whoever was on the line. Jane didn’t seem to notice, but she was focused on Science! – so who knew?

“Understood.” Chen hung up and tucked his phone back in his pocket. “You were late.”

“Oops?”

There came that almost smile again. “What’s the doc doing?”

“Drunk science.”

He blinked. “Say what?”

“Like I said – I’m tipsy, but Jane’s drunk.” Darcy sighed as she glanced at her best friend. “More to the point? She’s currently a **mad** drunk . . . her and Thor are on the outs, so she’s focusing on science as a way to get mellow.”

Chen watched Jane for a couple of minutes before turning to face Darcy. “ **This** is mellow?”

“Nope – this is her trying to _get_ mellow.”

Before he could speak, the door opened and the rest of the team walked in. Most of them swept their gazes around the room, clearing it in their usual fashion. Brock didn’t bother; he strode straight to her. “You were late,” he informed her. “Maybe you could have called?”

“Hey! I texted everyone!” She grabbed her phone, thrusting it at him. “See?”

He took the phone and glanced at the screen. Sighing, he crouched beside her. “Darcy, _piccola_ , you skipped a step.”

“Huh?”

Shaking his head, Brock tapped her screen and suddenly everyone’s phone made a noise. Then he handed her phone back to her, eyebrows lifted as his mouth curved into a smirk as the other men chuckled. 

“Shut up.” Darcy smacked his shoulder before tossing her phone on the desk. 

“Didn’t say anything,” he pointed out.

She gave him a narrow-eyed look before leaning her head against his shoulder. “I could hear you thinking it.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

“Why do people keep asking me that?” she sighed. “I’m not drunk – I’m tipsy. **Jane** is drunk.”

“Right.”

“If I were drunk, there would be snoring. I’m talking, not snoring, so very much not drunk.”

“Good to know.” He should be getting tired of crouching like that, but she saw no signs of fatigue. Instead he remained rock steady beneath her head. “Maybe we should see about getting you and the doc out of the lab?”

Snickering, she sat up. “Good luck?” Emotion flickered through his eyes as if he regretted saying anything and she realized he’d been comfortable with her leaning on him. Chalk up a win there. So she reached out to take his hand. “Jane’s got to either finish the science or pass out before you’ll get her out of here without a fight.”

His muscles relaxed under her touch. “Pretty sure we could take her, _piccola_.”

“Again . . . good luck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> _Piccola_ \- Italian - "little one"


	4. Still Tipsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the lab, part 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, no way will the next one come out this fast, but I needed to get this out of my head.
> 
> Bingo squares:  
> Marvel fluff - N3 - Free space  
> Ladies of Marvel - O2 - Begging
> 
> Also, in case you were interested, the end notes include the STRIKE team as they are in my head.

When the men gave her matching looks of disbelief, Darcy raised both hands and shook her head. “Seriously,” she insisted, “Jane’s tiny, but she’s fierce. And God be with you if you think she won’t go all Wolverine if you try and get between her and Science!”

“Did I just hear the capital letter?” Jack wondered.

“If you haven’t been hearing it before, then you haven’t been paying attention,” she chortled. Before anyone could reply, she caught movement out of the corner of one eye. A determined looking Jane strode towards her machines. “No, Jane!” Shoving out of her chair, Darcy hurried after the petite scientist and grabbed her around the waist. It took a moment of struggle, but she finally got her redirected towards the window again. “Theory and hypothesis first – no machines until that’s done.”

“What?” Jane blinked at her, then shook her head. “Right. Finish the theorem first.”

“Go girl.” 

“Equations, then practical.” Jane nodded, hurrying back over to pick up her marker.

“Yep, you bet,” Darcy agreed, swaying as she stumbled back over towards her team. “Break those laws of physics.” Coming over to where Brock had risen to his feet, she walked up to him and leaned her forehead against his chest. “Okay, boys, if she tries that again, one of you redirect her.” She lifted a hand to pat Brock. “You just stand there and be steady, I’m begging you. I think I stood up too fast.”

Moving so slow that she first thought she imagined it, Brock raised his arms and encircled her, holding her to him. Her tipsy self wanted to all but purr in response, but now probably wasn’t the time. _Down, girl._ She’d never really considered herself the type to go for the hot, older guy before . . . until she’d come into contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. Then she’d learned something new about herself – and as he’d begun to open up to her, she found that Brock Rumlow hit the right buttons. Despite the yummy though, she didn’t think **he** was quite ready for that.

And she so wasn’t _that_ woman.

Instead, she let herself relax into his hold, listening to his heart beating under her ear.

“Is she really doing science?” 

The question brought a quick laugh from her. “Jim, sugar, what makes you think I’ve got any idea?” she shot back without opening her eyes. “I’m the scientist handler, not the scientist. Ask Gil.”

“It’s either well-written gibberish,” came Gil’s reply without prompting. “Or the woman’s about to break the laws of physics - again.” His voice paused and she heard him humming in consideration. “Actually, I’d really like to consider getting that wiped off before we figure out which.”

“Why?” Brock demanded.

“It’s Foster, Boss – the woman would probably accidentally open a portal to hell.”

“Yes!” Darcy pulled away from Brock, the abrupt loss of support sending her swaying. His hands came up to grab her arms. She blinked at him and then smiled at Gil. “Thank you! Someone gets it.”

“So, it’s dangerous?”

“Maybe?” Gil shrugged. “Again, Boss – Foster.”

“Drunk Foster,” Darcy emphasized. “I am tipsy, and Jane is drunk. She’s doing **drunk** science! I need her to move to passed out drunk instead of drunk science.” A thought crossed her mind, prompting her to look up at him. “Would you be opposed to holding her while I poured that last margarita down her?”

Her question prompted a good deal more laughter and she pouted. Brock gave a soft snort before he managed to pull his amusement under control – mostly. His eyes still twinkled as he looked down at her. “Pretty sure that’s illegal, _piccola_.”

Blowing a raspberry at him, she pulled one arm loose to point at Rafe. “Then he needs to talk her into having it.”

“Me?” Big brown eyes blinked at her. “Why me?”

“First? Because she thinks you’re cute.” An honest-to-God blush climbed up the man’s cheeks, making her grin. “Second, she adores your accent. Most importantly though, you let her ramble at you in ‘Science!’ and never make her stop.”

He scratched the back of his head. “I like stars.”

“Don’t care, dude.” Darcy waved a hand. “You let her do it and apparently ask intelligent questions. She likes you. Please . . . again with the begging . . . talk her into that drink.”

“But-.”

“Guerrero, man, just offer her the drink,” Tristan chuckled.

“Before she opens the portal,” Gabe added.

“That’s why we’re keeping her away from the machines.” Darcy shifted around until she could lean back against Brock. It made it easier to see the rest of the team. Several of them smirked at her and she narrowed her eyes. Jane started to walk towards the machines before she could question them, so she just pointed. 

“One of you idiots stop her,” Brock chuckled.

Rafe had already begun moving. “Hold on, _chiquita_ ,” he murmured, taking Jane’s arm. “Maybe you have a drink with me before you start pushing the buttons, okay?”

"Drink?" Jane blushed as she tucked a lock of hair behind one ear. "Oh, okay, sure?"

Darcy giggled as she watched her friend being directed by the handsome medic. Her friend’s besotted blinders for Thor hadn’t kept her from noticing Rafe, even if only Darcy knew about the little crush Jane held for him. “Good, good,” she murmured, still with a little giggle in her voice. “One more should do it.”

“Playing games, Darce?” Remi shook his head, humor hovering at the corners of his smile. “And on your best friend?”

“Drunk science is dangerous – passed out is better,” she replied. “And by now, I will literally beg someone to get her to that point.”

“I don’t wanna pass out, Darcy!” Looking around, she found Jane’s blurry gaze fixed on her. “You can’t carry me to bed.”

“Jane, Janey, Jane!” Darcy laughed and threw out her hands. “I’ve got an entire team of men who will volunteer to carry you and pour you into a bed if you pass out.” She folded her arms over her chest, leaning a bit more against Brock. “You’re not going to wake up on the lab floor with your coat for a pillow.”

“Right.” For a moment, Jane’s eyes narrowed and then she sighed. “Oh, fine.” Downing the rest of her margarita in a single drink, she looked around the room. “I’m going to sleep now.” 

When she simply folded down, Rafe caught her and blinked down at the sleeping woman. “What-?”

“Told you,” Darcy grinned. “Just took that last drink.”

He huffed and then lifted the woman up over his shoulder. “People who can’t handle tequila shouldn’t drink tequila.” Leaving the room, he continued muttering under his breath in Spanish.

She just laughed. “Should I tell him that was her fourth one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S.T.R.I.K.E. Team Alpha:
> 
> Commander - Brock Rumlow  
> Second-in-command - Jack Rollins  
> Operations - Tristan Clarke  
> Asst Operations/Intelligence - James "Jim" Kamau  
> Communications - Gabriel "Gabe" Dayan & Guillaume "Guy" Fortier  
> Weapons - Alexei "Alex" Popov & Liu Chen  
> Engineering - Rahim "Remi" Faez & Gilberto "Gil" de Severosa  
> Medical - Rafael "Rafe" Guerrero & Markus "Mark" Koenig


	5. Needed: One Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy needs a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squares for this chapter:
> 
> Marvel Fluff Bingo - B5 - Mistaken for a couple  
> Ladies of Marvel Bingo - M2 - AU: Fake Dating

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Darcy made her way to the S.T.R.I.K.E. team offices. While there had been a discussion about the guys steering clear of headquarters for a while, she and Brock won the argument by reminding Fury that kind of avoidance would only lead to more rumors, not less. Maybe it meant the team having to put up with attitudes and sidelong glances, but their absence would fuel the distrust. So they still came in to do paperwork, use the training facilities, and help consult on various missions. 

“Hey, Darce, you okay?”

She glanced up at the concern voice and gave Mark a tired smile. “Don’t worry, Doc, I’m fine.” Wrinkling her nose, she walked over to lean against his desk. “Sometimes people just annoy me,” she sighed.

“Who did what?” Jack demanded, his eyes narrowing with a flash of temper.

“Pretty sure I’m not allowed to have you lot cut loose on the S.H.I.E.L.D. gossip network,” Darcy warned, but then she rolled her shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “There seems to be an ongoing set of wagers in regard to my relationship with the team.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, which one of you I’m sleeping with,” she shrugged, waving a hand as she spoke. “Or whether there’s more than one.” The growl – coming from multiple throats – made her blink. “You’ve got to have heard some of this,” she pointed out. “People think I’m dating – or at least sleeping with one or more of you and that’s why I’ve been ‘accepted’ by the team.”

“Give me the names, Darce,” Jim offered, “and I’ll make sure they’re next on the list when we handle the recertification on hand-to-hand.”

“Nice thought, really, but I’ve got no idea who is and who isn’t talking this bull. I try to stick with ignoring the stupid – it’s safer for my sanity.” Then she turned a wry smile on the team. “Any volunteers to be my date at the upcoming Stark shindig? Apparently my presence is mandatory.”

“So you’re asking one of us? After all the chatter?” 

Her eyebrows rose at Tristan’s question. “Want to tell me who else I might ask?” When he frowned, she shook her head. “I’m Jane’s best friend,” she began, counting off on her fingers. “Thor claims me as his ‘lightning sister’ and I work for Coulson. I’ve got an almost all-access pass to Avengers Tower, my best guy friend is Clint and as for Natasha . . .” She paused here, tilting her head in consideration. “Well, for Tasha, I’m pretty sure I’m the baby sister at least ninety percent of the time.”

Jim gave a soft snort of laughter. “And the other ten percent of the time?”

“I’m probably the pet.”

All of the men laughed at that. Darcy waited for them to settle before raising her eyebrows. “So . . . yeah, hard to find people to ask when they tiptoe around me.” She chuckled. “Again, anybody up for a date?”

“Interesting offer, _piccola_.” 

The new voice deepened her smile as she turned to see Brock lounging in the doorway. “What can I say?” she shrugged. “When you’ve got a team of guys like you lot, why would I go asking anyone else?” Her smile shifted into a smirk. “Plus a bunch of guys seem to be avoiding me lately.”

“If they think you’re dating one of us, you can’t blame them,” Remi pointed out. “It’s no wonder they’re talking about you.”

“What?” Brock turned a steady look on him.

“Hey,” Jim spread his hands. “We scare people, boss.”

Clearly, Darcy thought, no one wanted to be the one to give Brock the specifics.

“That I know. What I want to know is why they’re talking about Darcy.”

“You know how scuttlebutt is, Brock.” Jack hitched a hip up on the corner of one of the desks. “Someone gets an idea in their head, mentions it offhand, and by the next morning, they’ve got a full story churned out.” He grimaced. “And when it comes to water cooler gossip? We’re the second favorite target – right after the Avengers.”

“And I hang out with both groups,” Darcy put in, spreading her hands. “Thus . . . gossip fodder.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’ve put up with that kind of shit since puberty, so it’s no big deal.” Then she glanced around. “The fact that I still need a date for the Stark party? **That** is a big deal.”

“I’ll take you.” 

Turning back to the door, she watched as Brock pushed off the door jamb and strolled over to stand beside her. “Will you, now?” she grinned. “Even if it means more talk from all the busybodies?”

“Pretty sure I can handle it, _piccola_.” Reaching up, he brushed a lock of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. He ignored the mutters and snickers from the team as they moved away. Not that Darcy thought the men ignored **them**. No, she figured they would enjoy the show. _Speaking of nosy meddlers._ She banished the thought as Brock continued. “Might as well give them something to talk about.”

A tune began playing in her head and she chuckled. When his eyebrows rose, she made a face. “You’re lucky I actually like Bonnie Raitt – now that you’ve gotten her song stuck in my head.” Her smile turned mischievous as she slanted a flirty look at him. “But, hey, it sounds like fun.”

“Maybe I’ll get the chance to make it worth your while,” he added, a teasing note threading through his dark voice.

His voice sent a slow, molasses river of heat through her and she swayed a bit towards him, drawn like a moth to the flame. “Oh, yes?” Never would she admit to having been a bit breathy at that point, but she wanted to explore the potential hidden in the look he gave her.

Except she’d forgotten their audience.

“Good God, someone lock them in a damn closet already.”

Heat flooded Darcy’s cheeks at the muttered words, and she threw an exasperated look towards their avid watchers. “See if I let Tony invite any of you to the party,” she huffed, unable to pick out the speaker.

“We’re invited?” Alex gave her a surprised look. “To Stark’s extravaganza?”

“Well, you **were** . . . now I’m seriously debating that idea.”

“Don’t tease the boys, _piccola_ ,” Brock chuckled, his hands coming to settle on her shoulders. “Let them have their party.” When the men laughed and started joking about who they might meet – or take, he leaned down. “We can always lose them once we get there,” he murmured in her ear, sending a shiver through her.

_Well, damn, now **I’m** looking forward to Tony’s party._


	6. A Spot of Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy wonders about taking another step in her relationship with Brock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squares for this chapter:
> 
> Marvel Fluff - O4 - Rescue mission - hoping for one anyway . . .   
> Ladies of Marvel - E3 - Blindfolds

Darcy could feel Brock’s eyes following her all night . . . and it made her smile. He’d been fascinated with her dress since first laying eyes on her, or so it seemed, given his constant scrutiny. She’d loved the dress from the moment she saw it – a sleeveless nude number covered with red embroidery. It played down her cleavage, impossible as that often proved, but hugged her curves from shoulders to knees. She’d also chosen a bold red lipstick to match the dress. With her hair up and accessories at a minimum, she’d wanted attention specifically focused.

And Brock didn’t fail her.

Maybe they’d reach that point where she could take that next little step in their relationship. Sometime soon, she’d really like to see how long it took him to kiss that lipstick off her mouth. Slow as it may have been, she’d enjoyed watching their relationship grow from strangers to acquaintances to coworkers to friends. Granted, she’d seen the same type of growth with **all** of the men from STRIKE, but most of them saw her as a little sister.

Which she knew, considering they teased her about being the team mascot.

That didn’t bother Darcy – she figured they had a point. Kickass admin she might be, but no matter how fast or accurate with a Taser, she wouldn’t ever be the kind of battlefield warrior that fit into STRIKE. And yet . . . they treated her as one of them. Each of the men would tease her in much the same way as they did each other. They shared meals, keeping her and Jane both in the loop when it came to their schedules. More – at least in her mind – they helped her keep **Jane** on a steady schedule of science, sustenance, sleep, and sun. 

Not to mention the bonding moments of the team’s shared amusement over the Rafe and Jane show.

“Something funny, _piccola_?”

Turning her head at the deep voice in her ear, she smiled into Brock’s dark eyes. “Oh, I was just thinking about Rafe and Jane,” she explained.

He shook his head, a crooked smile flashing over his own lips. “She’s tying him in knots.”

“And doesn’t have a clue,” Darcy sighed. She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to start dropping bigger hints soon. I mean, much as I adore the big guy, Thor’s just never around enough . . . and really, unless he’s willing to defy his father, he’ll never be who Jane needs.”

“His loss.”

Her smile turned brilliant. “I **knew** I liked you!”

Pleasure gleamed in his eyes. ‘Feeling’s mutual,” he allowed before nodding at her empty glass. “You need some more wine?”

“Trying to get me drunk?” Her eyebrow cocked up as she put a teasing note into her voice.

“Just tipsy.”

She broke out in bright laughter at the quick rejoinder, remembering that day in the lab. “All right then,” she allowed, eyes sparkling with intention. “You can get me another glass of wine . . . then we’ll discuss just **why** you might be trying to get me _tipsy_.” Not that the wine would do it – which he knew perfectly well. She required serious alcohol or a whole bottle of wine before going that far down the scale.

“Turnabout’s fair play.”

Darcy blinked as he smirked and then turned to head for the bar. A smile started to stretch across her face. Well, well, well . . . **that** sounded promising.

Something hard poked into the small of her back. “Don’t scream.”

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered at the husky voice. The weapon pressed harder. “Could we skip the bruising?” 

“Shut up.”

An explosion across the room threw the room into chaos as screams erupted. The woman at her back hauled her away as all eyes swung towards the breaking insanity. Darcy didn’t bother screaming; it’d get lost in clamor and she didn’t want to get shot. So, while her captor dragged her against the flow of the crowd, she used the confusion to activate the panic button embedded in her watch. 

_Thank goodness for Tony and Gabe’s paranoia._

No matter what might be happening, she knew damn well her teams would be coming for her. Some of them might have to deal with the explosions, but somebody would be tracking her down. Not a single doubt darkened her mind.

Once alone in the hallway, she tried to turn her head to get a view of her attacker, but the weapon dug into her back. “Okay, okay,” she muttered as the woman prodded her into another room. “I get it.”

“Is this her?”

Great, more than one bad guy . . . the woman who’d grabbed her and at least one man.

“Blindfold her.”

“Wait, hey, no,” she protested even as the cloth covered her eyes. “Come on,” she wheedled as someone tied it off. “Could we skip this part too?”

“I told you to shut up.”

“That’s almost impossible for me,” Darcy began, the snarky reply shooting out since her brain-to-mouth filter hadn’t yet clicked into place. She detested being blind to anything going on around her. Just knowing she couldn’t watch them, couldn’t _see_ bothered her.

A stinging slap came out of nowhere.

The cry escaped her before she could bite it back. 

“I said, shut up.” Her captor slapped her a second time. “You should listen.” The woman shoved her into a chair. “Secure her. We’ll come back for her when they scatter.”

“We’re not moving her out now?” came a second male voice.

“No,” replied the woman as hard hands secured her to the chair. Another piece of cloth covered her mouth as they gagged her. “They’ll be looking for people trying to run with her. No one ever looks under their own noses.”

_Great_ , Darcy huffed to herself. _I’ve got stupid kidnappers._

Better stupid than smart, she supposed. That would cut down on the time it took for her people to come get her. The darkness made her twitchy as she strained her hearing, listening to the noises as her captors left the room. She **hated** being blindfolded. Twisting and tugging, she yanked at her bonds. No noise beyond the sounds of her own muffled grunts, no light . . . damn it, where the hell was her rescue crew?

_Not fair,_ she scolded herself. _Even the best need more than a few minutes to play rescue._

While she’d take any rescue she could get, a part of her yearned for STRIKE. Okay, so maybe it was more STRIKE along with Clint and Natasha, but as long as Brock led the way, she’d take the rescue however she could get it. And when they cut her loose? Darcy planned to finally plant that kiss on him. Screw the tiptoeing around.

If he didn’t move things forward, **she** would.


End file.
